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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25440769">swallowing butterflies</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwaixumi/pseuds/iwaixumi'>iwaixumi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>hey hey hey lover [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Fluff, Getting Together, Light angst in the middle, M/M, bokuto has adhd and knits when he does things, college au still i guess?, happy ending!, mentions of sex (they're college boys), still projecting a lot onto bokuto oops, the rest is fluff tho!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:41:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,369</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25440769</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwaixumi/pseuds/iwaixumi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bokuto didn’t have the best memory, but he remembered everything about Akaashi. </p><p>He didn’t remember the first time he realized he had a crush, though. It almost felt like it had always been there, stuck inside Bokuto’s heart until the stars aligned the day they met. Or something like that.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>hey hey hey lover [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1818937</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>i love bokuto and akaashi so much it makes my heart hurt so i knew i had to write their backstory from stitched with love (next work in this series)<br/>it's not necessary to read stitched with love to understand this fic, but i would suggest reading it anyway to see how they end up!!<br/>i hope you enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bokuto Koutarou was not known for being an especially calm person. In fact, he was often considered easily-excitable and quite expressive by nature. In general, he was a very happy person who lived every day with a glass half full. Life excited him, for better or for worse, and that was a quality many of his friends found incredibly endearing. It was like everything had the potential for brightening his day.</p><p>For Bokuto, there were two things specifically that brought him more joy than anything else: volleyball and Akaashi Keiji.</p><p>Volleyball brought a level of thrill to Bokuto’s life that he was positive he could never get anywhere else. He was not necessarily a genius at the sport, but he had put hundreds of hours of practice into it to get to where he was now – a college player for one of the best teams in the country. He had dedicated so much of his life to it at this point that it had an undeniable effect on both his mood and his ego. Volleyball was the one thing that could take Bokuto from zero to one hundred and then back to zero again in the span of five minutes. Bokuto wasn’t sure if he could live without playing it.</p><p>Akaashi had a different effect on Bokuto. In high school their teammates would joke that Akaashi was the only person who could truly reel Bokuto in, which wasn’t necessarily the case. Akaashi helped with Bokuto’s impulses and social manners, sure, but if anything, Akaashi was Bokuto’s rock. Akaashi grounded Bokuto a bit, just enough so he didn’t fly into the sun, but supported him being himself. With Akaashi, Bokuto felt like someone was listening to him and cared about what he had to say. Akaashi wasn’t reeling him back down to the ground – he was a rock that kept Bokuto from straying too far.</p><p> From the outside, it looked like Akaashi was emotionally unattached and barely tolerated Bokuto, but Bokuto knew better. He knew Akaashi thought he was an amazing player and a good friend. It was Akaashi’s validation and support that allowed Bokuto to grow in the right direction. </p><p>It was true that Akaashi was not exactly the most responsive or expressive person, and although Bokuto was not the best at reading social cues, he got pretty good over the past few years at reading Akaashi’s minute changes in expression. He also somehow managed to wiggle his way into Akaashi’s life as one of his best friends. Through this close bond he learned that not only was Akaashi incredibly smart, but he was also very funny. He liked daisies and fidgeted with his hands. He broke a bone in his arm when he was eight learning how to ride a bike, and could make a popping sound from the same place if he twisted it a certain way.</p><p>Bokuto didn’t have the best memory, but he remembered everything about Akaashi. </p><p>He didn’t remember the first time he realized he had a crush, though. It almost felt like it had always been there, stuck inside Bokuto’s heart until the stars aligned the day they met. Or something like that.</p><p>The two things that made Bokuto the happiest were volleyball and Akaashi – which made splitting the two apart very difficult for him when he graduated. </p><p>Bokuto was very grateful for Akaashi during this time. Before he graduated and moved to a college forty-five minutes away, he and Akaashi would text every so often; but once he left, they began to talk a bit more to make up for how little they saw each other. Bokuto had a hard time texting, though, because he would get too distracted doing other things and forget to look at his phone, so sometimes they would video chat at night. </p><p>At least once a week Bokuto would sit at his desk with his phone propped up and knit absentmindedly to soothe his restless mind while Akaashi would study or do homework. It was quiet and calm as Bokuto would loop the yarn through his needles over and over, not a thought running through his head except that this didn’t feel real. Bokuto honestly had a hard time convincing himself that when they video chatted they didn’t enter some sort of pocket dimension where time would stop. One time he had explained this to Akaashi, who reassured him that time was indeed passing and their video call was very real. </p><p>But Bokuto couldn’t help but let his mind run – as per usual – when they had these calls, and tonight was no exception. </p><p>“You look like you’re going to combust if you don’t say whatever you’re thinking about,” Akaashi said without looking up from his papers. </p><p>Bokuto started to speak without considering what he was going to say, as was usually the case.</p><p>“Kuroo and Oikawa were telling me today that we all live in a simulation that was created by a simulation, like, doomed to create more simulations that would create simulations.”</p><p>Akaashi continued working, completely unphased. “Uh-huh.”</p><p>“But that can’t be true because I can touch things.” Bokuto continued knitting, the pads of his fingers starting to hurt from the way he held his needles. </p><p>“That’s true. You can indeed touch things.”</p><p>“And, like, taste things. And feel things. You know?”</p><p>“What if we were just programmed to feel things but none of it is actually real?” Akaashi countered with his typical monotonous tone.</p><p>Bokuto paused knitting for a second and considered that. He couldn’t seem to process the idea that his senses and feelings could be programmed. His head started to hurt. “It is real because a computer couldn’t make me sad.”</p><p>At this, Akaashi’s lips curled slightly at the corners. “I think Kuroo and Oikawa just like to mess with you, Bokuto.”</p><p>“Why!”</p><p>“Probably because it’s funny for them,” Akaashi answered bluntly.</p><p>Bokuto continued on with his stitching, using it to keep his mind more centered as his brain threatened to spiral deeper. </p><p>“Do you think they think I’m stupid?” Bokuto asked, feeling himself deflate a little bit.</p><p>Akaashi finally looked up at his phone and stared at Bokuto. His face looked as blank as always, but Bokuto could see something else in his expression that he couldn’t quite place. </p><p>“If they know you at all, they know you’re not stupid,” he said simply. </p><p>“But, like-“</p><p>“-I’m not saying you’re good at your studies,” Akaashi interrupted.</p><p>“Hey!”</p><p>“You are not particularly good at academics, but your brain works just fine otherwise.”</p><p>“Thanks, Akaashi!” Bokuto began to cheer up at the compliment. It was reassuring to hear one of the smartest people he knew tell him he wasn’t stupid. He looked up to smile at Akaashi to find Akaashi staring at him. Bokuto felt Akaashi’s eyes pierce into him through the phone, like he was being inspected, and it sent a chill down his spine.</p><p>“Kuroo has known you long enough to know you’re not. Oikawa is highly intelligent so I’m sure he has come to the same conclusion as well. Simple-minded does not mean stupid. It just means you are impulsive and emotional.”</p><p>Bokuto wasn’t sure if that was and insult or not, but it seemed like a reasonable enough explanation. He started to pick up his knitting speed a bit, humming to himself as he finished another row. </p><p>“You said you’re going home this weekend, right?” Akaashi asked after a minute or two of comfortable silence.</p><p>Bokuto hummed in excitement. “Yes! It’s going to be so nice to see my parents again since it’s been a couple months. I kinda wish we didn’t usually have practices on weekends, but I guess it makes sense if they want us to be good enough to win tournaments. Why, do you wanna hang out? I meant to ask when I told you I was coming home but I forgot.”</p><p>Akaashi’s face changed for a split second into an expression completely unreadable before it reverted to normal. “That would be nice.” Akaashi closed his notebook and started putting away some of his homework. “I was also wondering if you wanted to come help with serving and receiving drills on Saturday. We have a practice for an upcoming practice ma-“</p><p>“-That sounds so fun!” Bokuto interrupted animatedly, his body practically vibrating in excitement. “I’d love to meet the first years and show them what they missed out on!”</p><p>“Of course. I know some of the third and second years miss having you around, too.”</p><p>Bokuto laughed. “Of course they do! I’m sure it’s so boring without me! But I know you’re doing a great job as captain so that’s not your fault.”</p><p>Akaashi smiled and Bokuto swore his stomach flipped. “Thank you, Bokuto. It is very quiet without you there. I’m looking forward to seeing you.”</p><p>Bokuto could not contain the wide grin that split his face. “Me too, Akaashi! It’s gonna be so fun!”</p><p>“I think so too.” Akaashi’s features softened again in the way Bokuto had learned to recognize over the years. “Well I’m going to bed, it’s getting late.”</p><p>“Okay! Sleep well!” Bokuto waved at his phone.</p><p>“I will try my best. Get some sleep, too. It’s important.”</p><p>“I know, I will, I promise!”</p><p>Akaashi waved back and hung up. </p><p>Even though it was getting pretty late, Bokuto found that he couldn’t get in bed yet. He was bursting with energy just thinking about seeing his old team again. He hadn’t visited since he moved because the timing never worked out, but now he was going finally. He wondered what practices were like with Akaashi as captain. Was he strict? Did he lead stretches at the beginning of practice like Bokuto had done? Did the new first years respect him?</p><p>Bokuto decided that Akaashi was a great captain who ran practices with a tight grip, but not overly so. He didn’t even need to see Akaashi in action to know this, but seeing it would be fun. </p><p>Bokuto turned on some music and began to knit again. He zoned out completely, allowing his mind to go where it wanted while his hands worked the yarn and the music distracted his ears.</p><p>He was pulled back to the present after an undetermined amount of time by a single, loud thud on his bedroom door. </p><p>“Bro, either turn that shit down or put on some headphones, I’m trying to study!”</p><p>Bokuto honestly forgot he lived with another person. It was easy for things he couldn’t see to slip his mind sometimes, which caused him trouble occasionally with his roommate.</p><p>“Hearing my music is a gift!” Bokuto yelled back as he turned it off. </p><p>“I’m returning the receipt then,” Kuroo scoffed and his footsteps grew quieter as he went back to his own room. </p><p>Living with Kuroo was not as chaotic and loud as Bokuto thought it would be, which was nice (although he would have enjoyed it either way). Bokuto and Kuroo had been good friends in high school, despite not attending the same schools. They decided to live together when they both committed to the same college for volleyball to lower the cost of living in an apartment. </p><p>Living there was still pretty expensive, though, even split up between two of them, so they were probably going to have a third roommate when the next year started. It was probably going to be Oikawa, since he practically lived on their couch at this point anyway. </p><p>Bokuto considered his options now that his music was off and his room was quiet. He could stay up a bit longer on his phone or laptop, but it was getting late; or he could go to sleep, like Akaashi had said, which would probably be for the best since he had to wake up early for practice. He decided to just get in bed, since Akaashi was usually right about these things. </p><p>It took a while for sleep to take him, but when it did, he dreamt of hitting one of Akaashi’s sets, the blood rushing in his veins, and the feeling of absolute trust shared between them. </p><p>+</p><p>The next three days leading up to Saturday were fairly uneventful. Bokuto went to class, went to the gym, had practice, and hung out with Kuroo and Oikawa. With every day that passed Bokuto became more and more excited to visit home. Not only to visit his old team’s practice, but to see his parents and Akaashi. Even though he didn’t live too far away, about forty-five minutes by train, it was still hard to make the time in his schedule to come home. </p><p>Thankfully, the rest of the week flew by without any disasters, and Bokuto soon found himself on a train home late Friday night. He played games on his phone absentmindedly as he excitedly thought about the plans he had with Akaashi the next day. </p><p>They made plans to meet at practice in the early afternoon and hang out the rest of the day. They didn’t really have any specifics planned out, but Bokuto assumed they would go out for dinner and hang out at one of their houses. They didn’t really hang out all day like that before Bokuto moved, but it seemed like the natural response to how little they saw each other now. Bokuto got to see Akaashi in person so infrequently that he was itching to spend as much time with him as possible. Video calling was fun and definitely much better than texting, but Bokuto missed the feeling of having Akaashi beside him. </p><p>After getting off the train and making his way to his family’s home, a duffle bag stuffed with far too many clothes for just two nights slung over his shoulder, the reality that he was back home finally settled in. By the time Bokuto reached his house he was about to explode with excitement just thinking about hugging his mom.</p><p>Thankfully the door was unlocked – if it wasn’t Bokuto might have broken either the door or his nose walking into it. </p><p>“Hey hey hey!” Bokuto announced, closing the door behind him loudly.</p><p>“Kou, you’re home already!” His mother’s voice came from the direction of the kitchen. Bokuto took off his shoes by the door hastily and followed the sounds of sizzling to the kitchen. </p><p>Inside, his mother was cooking while his father sat at the dining table nearby. Bokuto dropped his bag and ran to hug his mother. </p><p>She laughed and hugged him back, still holding a pair of chopsticks in her right hand. “It’s nice to see you too!”</p><p>Bokuto heard his father grunt. “You should call more – your mother worries about you too much.”</p><p>Bokuto’s face tore into a wide grin – one he knew would hurt his cheeks if he held it too long. “I’m sorry! I try to call every other day but sometimes I forget. I’ll set an alarm or something so I don’t forget again.”</p><p>He and his mother separated. She smiled, and it reminded him of himself a bit. </p><p>“It’s okay, I know you’re a busy college boy now, gaining your independence. Don’t worry about your old mom now.”</p><p>“I love you, so I’ll always worry!”</p><p>She laughed. “I love you too, now sit down. Dinner will be ready soon.”</p><p>The smells in the kitchen finally reached Bokuto’s nose and his stomach ached. It had been so long since he had a warm, homecooked meal. He wondered if she would make extra food this weekend so he could take some back with him. </p><p>Bokuto moved to sit across from his father at the table, who was completing a game of sudoku from a book of puzzles.</p><p>Unlike his mother, Bokuto’s father was not very expressive. He was a bit more stern, and Bokuto had a harder time knowing what he should say when they talked. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his father or that his father didn’t love him back or anything, their relationship was just a bit harder to navigate. Where his son was impulsive, sensitive, and loud, Bokuto’s father was level-headed, stoic, and quiet. Of course, he had fallen in love with Bokuto’s mother, so he had some appreciation for the qualities Bokuto and his mother shared. </p><p>“How are classes going?” His father asked. </p><p>Bokuto shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “They’re alright. I’m still in pretty simple classes because I’m just a first year, so it hasn’t been too bad. Kuroo’s been helping me a bit in math.”</p><p>“I’m glad you have friends who can help you. You know you can’t always rely on them, though, right?”</p><p>Bokuto deflated a bit. “Yeah, I know. Akaashi’s also helped me a little bit – when we video chat sometimes I do homework with him so I can get in the habit. Also, I’m starting to learn how to keep a calendar, and I think it’ll work this time! Akaashi says my brain isn’t wired to keep calendars and that’s why they’ve never really worked for me, but I feel pretty good about it this time.”</p><p>“Isn’t that what you said last time?”</p><p>Bokuto knew his dad wasn’t trying to be mean, but it definitely didn’t feel good. He struggled to find something to say to convince his father that this time would be different, but came up short for words. It was true. He just couldn’t keep a planner, journal, or calendar, no matter how many times he tried. His teachers and friends always told him to keep one because he was so disorganized. Sometimes he could keep one for a few weeks and it was helpful when he would use it, but he always inevitably lost interest. Sometimes he couldn’t even keep one for a week – he would lose it or the way he had it set up didn’t make much sense over time. It was kind of a sore spot for Bokuto – he was an incredibly disorganized and forgetful person who couldn’t even keep a planner.</p><p>Just as Bokuto was sure to say something else his father would disagree with, his mother came from the kitchen carrying bowls of food. </p><p>“Don’t be rude to your son, dear. You know his mind doesn’t work like that, don’t make him feel bad,” His mother chided as she set the table. </p><p>Bokuto’s heart warmed at her words. Even as a child, Bokuto’s mother had been his primary advocate. Very early on she had noticed her son was not quite like the other kids – he was more impulsive and loud. He would climb things he shouldn’t have on the playground and chewed on pencils in class. His teachers always told his parents he had “too much energy” which was why he picked up volleyball in middle school. It helped wear him out and gave him an outlet for his extra energy, and his performance in school started to get better.</p><p>One summer when he was eight Bokuto had an especially hard time and nothing seemed to keep his attention for very long, much to the dismay of his parents. That was the summer his mother taught him how to knit. He wasn’t very good at first, but it gave his brain and hands something to focus on. Eventually he got good enough to do it while watching television, and that changed things for him. He wasn’t able to just sit and watch TV before because he couldn’t sit still long enough and it couldn’t keep his attention, even if he was genuinely interested. But when he started knitting, he could sit through multiple episodes of a show at a time before getting restless. Knitting was one of the few activities that made Bokuto feel like he could slow down like other people could. </p><p>However, there were still things he had trouble with that neither volleyball nor knitting could fix. He was chronically disorganized, incredibly forgetful, and had a poor sense of time. These were problems he struggled with every day, problems that keeping a simple planner would help immensely – if he could manage to keep one long enough. </p><p>“I’m sorry, Koutarou. I’m just glad to hear you’re doing well with your studies while playing on the team.”</p><p>Bokuto’s spirits lifted a little at the apology and lifted even more at the mention of his volleyball team. </p><p>“The team is doing great! I really think we’re gonna do well this season, though coach isn’t sure if I should be a starter yet. He’s used me in a lot of practice games, though, so I think he will.” Bokuto began to pile food on his plate as he spoke. </p><p>Being at home was exactly the way it had always been. Bokuto felt warmth and comfort in his mother’s presence and appreciated the effort his father put in to make them both happy. The rest of dinner went well, with Bokuto and his mother dominating the conversation, as was expected. He helped clean up the table and do the dishes before he finally brought his bag to his old room to settle in for the night. </p><p>His room looked the same way it always did, albeit emptier since it was devoid of most of his things that he took with him when he moved. He rummaged through his bag for clothes to sleep in and changed. He got into bed feeling content and warm inside.</p><p>Once in bed, he thought – for the millionth time that week – about his plans for the next day: seeing his old team and spending time with Akaashi. Quickly, his thoughts spiraled as he thought about the other boy. He reached for his phone and sent Akaashi a quick text. </p><p>
  <b>I’m back!! excited for tomorrow!!!!!</b>
</p><p>Almost instantly he got a reply, and his heart raced as he opened it, just like it always did when he got a notification from Akaashi.</p><p>
  <b>Me too. Make sure you’re there at noon.</b>
</p><p>Bokuto smiled as he typed his response. </p><p>
  <b>of course I’ll be there! I’ve never been late to practice!</b>
</p><p>They texted back-and-forth for a little bit before it got late and they both fell asleep. </p><p>That night, Bokuto dreamed of Akaashi again. Like most nights, the dream was forgotten by morning. But the familiar warmth in his heart remained even after waking.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next morning, Bokuto couldn’t get out of the house fast enough. He woke up to his alarm and got ready much faster than usual, even though he wasn’t running late. He was still wet from his shower when he got dressed and packed a backpack with spare clothes to wear after practice. When he got to the kitchen he ate his food so fast he almost choked, and his father chided him from the other room. </p><p>“Sorry, dad!” Bokuto called out. </p><p>“It would not be wise to choke and die before practice.”</p><p>“Well, I know that,” Bokuto responded as he finished his meal. He got up and placed his dishes in the sink before grabbing his bag and heading out the door. He was pretty early, but that didn’t matter much. Being early is better than being late, and Bokuto kind of wanted to get a couple minutes of practice in before anyone else got there. </p><p>Except, when he arrived at his old gym, practice was already very much underway. </p><p>“Bokuto!”</p><p>When he entered the gym, many of his juniors stopped their individual practice and turned their attention to him. Bokuto’s heart started pounding. Being the center of attention so suddenly got his blood pumping more than anything else. </p><p>“Am I late?” Bokuto asked as he strode confidently further into the gym towards Akaashi, who stood with a seemingly blank expression but a glimmer in his eye that Bokuto had learned to recognize as something positive. </p><p>“No, you’re here exactly at the time I told you,” Akaashi said simply. “Practice started an hour ago.”</p><p>“WHAT! Akaashi!” </p><p>“I figured we should get some productive practicing done before you got here and everyone would be distracted.”</p><p>Bokuto’s ears burned a little. He was honestly more flattered than upset that he missed an hour of practice. His presence would be such a big deal that Akaashi wanted to get time in separately – probably for the best. Bokuto was admittedly a bit distracting. </p><p>With the addition of a stranger to their practice, Akaashi introduced Bokuto to the new first years, who all looked at Bokuto with wide-eyes and nervous glances. This was only natural, of course. Bokuto was a very large person and a living legend for their school’s volleyball team – at least that’s what he liked to think. The second and third years all greeted him happily and with interest, asking what college was like and how his new team was. Bokuto answered these questions happily, ignoring the increasingly fidgety Akaashi next to him who looked like he was going to burst if practice didn’t continue. </p><p>“As much as everyone here would love to hear more about your college life, Bokuto, I think we should move on with practice,” Akaashi finally interrupted. </p><p>Bokuto’s whole body got lighter. “Ooo, serving and receiving drills, right? How do you want to do it? Can I hit some of your sets again, Akaashi, I really miss them! Nobody sets to me like you do.”</p><p>Akaashi’s face cracked into a light smile, one that was noticeable but not completely out of the ordinary. “That’s the plan. You’re going to help our best servers with their jump serves while the rest of us do individual practice, and then you will help me run receiving drills after you’ve worn them out.”</p><p>“Okay! Who’s lucky enough to be given a personal training session on jump serves with one of the best players in Japan!” Bokuto brought his hands to his hips, puffed out his chest, and grinned. He was going to help them so much and everyone was going to be amazed at how good of a teacher he was! Akaashi was going to be so proud of him.  </p><p>Bokuto looked over at Akaashi in time to see the end of an eyeroll. “Them,” Akaashi answered, pointing to two players Bokuto recognized as a second and first year. Or now they were a third and second year. Thinking about his former kohai aging made Bokuto feel old all of a sudden. </p><p>“This is so exciting! Let’s do this!” Bokuto literally jumped in excitement, pumping his fist in the air. </p><p>After putting on his long kneepads and stretching at Akaashi’s reminder, Bokuto was finally on the court next to his juniors. He watched them each serve a few times to see what they were doing and then he demonstrated a serve of his own. Tossing the ball felt second nature to him as it flew exactly where it was supposed to and it hit his contact point exactly. When he slammed the ball with the heel of his hand he snapped his body forward to add momentum. The ball felt like it flattened in his palm for a second before it flew across the net and hit the floor just in front of the white line that surrounded the court. </p><p>Bokuto could not help the grin that split across his face. Maybe he just couldn’t remember, but he had never hit a serve that well in this gym. It was easy to not notice progress, but that serve reminded him that he had really gotten better and that he was improving at an impressive rate. He wished he could go back to Nationals with the serve he had now so he could see the faces in the stands around him as he scored point after point as the perfect service ace. His palm tingled. He hoped Akaashi saw how good his serves had gotten.</p><p>Bokuto turned back to his juniors, who couldn’t hide the awestruck looks on their faces.</p><p>“How often do you practice?!” One of them practically yelled. Bokuto’s chest swelled with pride. </p><p>Their jump serves weren’t too bad. Bokuto wasn’t the best at explaining things, but he tried his best to make do with lots of sound effects and swinging at the air. Both of them seemed to struggle with the initial toss; when they would get it right the serve was much better. Ultimately, Bokuto told them, it would come down to practicing that first toss. Then everything else could be worked out when the technique was correct. </p><p>Eventually, everybody got back together to run receiving drills. This involved everybody on the team taking turns between doing regular serves or spiking from one of Akaashi’s sets and receiving those serves and spikes. Initially, Akaashi told Bokuto to sit out for a little bit and take a short break. Bokuto complained, but Akaashi did not give in and so Bokuto sulked on the floor of the gym, water bottle in hand, as he watched his old team run drills. They were doing well – the serves were consistent and the receives almost always went up perfectly. The team was doing well without Bokuto on it, which both annoyed him and made him proud. </p><p>Near the end of drills, Akaashi brought Bokuto back on the court to see how some of the team would do receiving a powerful spike. Bokuto was more than happy to help, he was itching to feel the ball in his palms again and was ready to show off to both the team and Akaashi. </p><p>When Akaashi set to him for the first time in a long time, Bokuto couldn’t help but think about how right it felt. The set was perfect in every way – the height, the distance, the spin. Even though they hadn’t practiced together in months, they fell right back into place. </p><p>Bokuto didn’t even have to think as he jumped and smacked the ball down. It landed on the other side of the net, untouched, and flew into the rafters. </p><p>Bokuto whipped around to face Akaashi, his mouth open wide. Akaashi was smiling back, his features suddenly very soft. </p><p>“Akaashiii!!! We’re still so in sync! You’re the best setter ever!” </p><p>Bokuto could have sworn Akaashi turned a little pink. </p><p>“That’s a bit of an exaggeration, but thank you.”</p><p>“No it is true! You have the best sets and gave me a really good one even though we haven’t played together in a long time!”</p><p>“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” Akaashi’s face twisted and he rubbed at his cheeks which were definitely a pink color. “Let’s just try that again and maybe someone will actually try to dig it this time.” He turned to face his teammates on the other side of the net. “Bokuto is not that scary, most of you were on this team with him, at least try to get it up.”</p><p>“I am scary!” Bokuto defended.</p><p>“Uh-huh.”</p><p>As they continued, the receives got better as the team got used to Bokuto’s spikes. As frustrating as it was to have his spikes dug, it made him happy that he was helping the team get better. In all, he realized being at practice with them was bittersweet. He was helping them grow while also watching them flourish without him. </p><p>By the end of practice, everyone was tired, sweaty, and ready to go home – except for Bokuto, who had an unlimited supply of energy and would practice all day if he could. Much to dismay, Akaashi eventually coaxed him off the court and into the showers with the rest of the team so they could call it a day and leave. </p><p>When Bokuto and Akaashi left the gym together, all the sadness he felt at the ending of practice left when he thought about spending the rest of the day with Akaashi. </p><p>“What do you want to do?” Akaashi asked.</p><p>“I don’t really care, I’m just looking forward to hanging out with you. It’s been forever!” Bokuto smiled.</p><p>Akaashi smiled back but looked away quickly. His curly black hair was already starting to dry from the shower he took, and Bokuto had an indescribable urge to reach out and touch it. He didn’t, though, because that would be weird.</p><p>“We video chat every week, Bokuto.”</p><p>“Yeah, I know, but that’s different!”</p><p>Akaashi paused in thought for a second before leading the way. “Okay, well, we can get dinner and hang out at my house, if you would like.”</p><p>It felt like Bokuto’s insides were bubbling as he followed along. “Yeah! That sounds super exciting – I’ve only been to your house a few times. What were you thinking for dinner?”</p><p>“I thought you might have missed the ramen place around here since you’ve been gone. Is that okay?”</p><p>Bokuto’s heart skipped a beat. Sometimes if they had a particularly late practice in high school, he and Akaashi (and occasionally the other third years) would go to a ramen place by the school for dinner. They had the best broth and somehow managed to always fill Bokuto’s athlete’s appetite. He had missed those nights dearly. </p><p>“That sounds great!”</p><p>Bokuto knew he had missed home and Akaashi in particular, but he didn’t realize how much he had missed the younger boy until they were walking together. Just being next to Akaashi made Bokuto feel at peace. He never felt uncomfortable with Akaashi; he never felt too loud, talkative, or disorganized, even if he was all three of those things. It sounded cheesy, but it felt like he was more whole and put together than usual with Akaashi compared to when they were apart and he felt like a random conglomeration of disparate parts that didn’t always work together correctly. </p><p>The ramen shop was even better than Bokuto remembered it, even though he had only been gone for a few months. The food was good and the company was even better. Running out of things to say was not an issue Bokuto experienced, which he was grateful for as dinner progressed. Conversation came easy to him regardless of the topic or person, but it flowed a bit easier with Akaashi. He didn’t stop to think if he was being too much, talking to loud or too fast. Akaashi was not the most talkative, but he was receptive to the things Bokuto said and offered his own thoughts as well, which Bokuto loved to hear more than anything. </p><p>Akaashi paid for both of them, much to the appreciation of Bokuto’s crying wallet. Bokuto wondered if it was possible for someone to be nicer to him than Akaashi. It would be very hard, he decided. Akaashi was very nice. </p><p>They left, Bokuto loudly thanking the restaurant staff as they went, and made their way to Akaashi’s house. The walk down his street was very nice – it was a path green with plants, fueling the positive and refreshed energy Bokuto had been radiating. The sun was starting to set and it was getting cooler outside, and as they walked together Bokuto had the tremendous urge to hold Akaashi’s hand. </p><p>Bokuto was an incredibly impulsive person – his ADHD diagnosis was proof enough of that – but the thought of reaching for the other boy’s long, slender fingers was so off the table that it even made his impulses falter. </p><p>He almost did, though. His fingers twitched before he could catch them, and the smallest feeling of Akaashi’s skin on the very tips of his fingers, a touch so light that Bokuto had trouble comprehending if it had actually happened, sent a massive shock down his spine. </p><p>If Akaashi had noticed, he did not react. But that did not help the butterflies going crazy in the pit of Bokuto’s stomach. He imagined huge monarch butterflies swarming in his stomach and trying to fly back up and out his throat. Bokuto’s mind wandered. Would butterflies in your stomach hurt? Has someone ever had live butterflies in their belly? How would they have gotten there?</p><p>Bokuto’s mouth opened without him thinking and he voiced these thoughts aloud. </p><p>“I can’t imagine butterflies can live in the stomach – stomach acid would probably kill them. I’m also not sure how someone could eat them without killing them, either,” Akaashi responded, unphased by the unexplained and sudden change of subject from hypothetical fights between their old teammates to eating butterflies. “Too many people have lived for nobody to have ever swallowed at least a couple, though. I’m sure of that.”</p><p>As Bokuto was about to speculate the circumstanced that would lead to a person swallowing multiple live butterflies, he was cut short when they reached their destination. </p><p>Bokuto had been to Akaashi’s house a few times before, but not often. When they hung out in high school it was usually to go places or do things, but if they were at one of their houses it was usually Bokuto’s since it was closer to the shops and parks they frequented. </p><p>Entering Akaashi’s house felt like a portal to an alternate reality Bokuto had been to before but had almost no memory of: familiar and a little off-putting.</p><p>The inside of Akaashi’s house was uncomfortably clean. The lack of things to look at actually made Bokuto a little antsy, if he was being completely honest. He felt like he was standing in a model house – maybe even a toy one. He felt too big and very out of place, like every step he took left a muddy footprint and everything he touched would need to be washed afterwards. Like he was an action figure in a barbie dream house. </p><p>“Bokuto’s here,” Akaashi announced as he rounded a corner. Bokuto followed, taking off his shoes by the entrance like Akaashi had done. </p><p>“Oh, good. It’s been a while since he’s been here.” Seated in the living room couch was Akaashi’s father – a tall man with dark hair like Akaashi’s. He was drinking a coffee, which Bokuto thought was odd at first since it was past dinner time before he remembered Akaashi telling him his father liked having coffee after dinner in lieu of tea. In the kitchen nearby was Akaashi’s mother, whose posture remained perfect even as she cleaned dishes. Bokuto always thought Akaashi’s mom looked like a queen; she had a strong and elegant presence that kind of reminded him of her son sometimes.</p><p>Bokuto had only met Akaashi’s parents a handful of times, and none of the interactions went poorly, in his opinion. Akaashi’s parents were a little too stuffy, but they were good people. Their energies did not match Bokuto’s very well, but he wasn’t particularly bothered by it. When it came to adults in general they were either charmed by him or treated him too much like a child who couldn’t take care of himself. Akaashi’s parents didn’t fit either category exactly, making them hard to read and incredibly unreceptive to Bokuto’s attempts at conversation at times. He didn’t worry too much about it, though. Maybe one day they would appreciate his energy and excitement. Probably not. But he held out hope.</p><p>“Nice to see you again! It’s been a while.” Bokuto smiled at them brightly and bowed his head slightly. </p><p>“I hear you’re at university now. How has that been going?” Akaashi’s father asked while Akaashi went to greet his mother in the kitchen quickly with a surprisingly formal and stiff kiss on the cheek. </p><p>“It’s been good! Playing college volleyball is really fun because everyone is so good which is also a little annoying but everyone is really nice so it’s okay. Classes are boring though, but it’s class so that makes sense. But I have Akaashi helping me study so it’s going really well!”</p><p>Akaashi’s father blinked as if Bokuto had just spoken a foreign language. “Well that’s good, I suppose. I’m glad Keiji is a good influence on you.”</p><p>“He’s helped me a lot!” Bokuto gushed happily. He didn’t realize until much later that Akaashi’s father had sort of insulted him. </p><p>Akaashi reentered the living room, where he returned to his spot next to Bokuto. He offered a head nod to his father as greeting.</p><p>Akaashi’s father nodded back. “How was practice?”</p><p>“It went well. Bokuto was incredibly helpful for receive drills and serve practice. I think we are more than ready for our next practice match.” Bokuto couldn’t help but accept the surge of pride in his chest at the notion he had been “incredibly helpful”. </p><p>“Akaashi is the best captain! Maybe even better than I was!” Bokuto added happily. Beside him, Akaashi scrunched his nose and the tops of his cheeks dusted the slightest pink color.</p><p>“I’m glad to hear he’s been doing well maintaining his studies and his responsibilities as captain,” Akaashi’s father replied simply, devoid of all vocal inflections.</p><p>“Keiji is very talented,” Akaashi’s mother added from the kitchen, as if to decode the underlying emotional subtext of her husband’s words. Akaashi scrunched his nose again. </p><p>“We are going to hang out upstairs.” Akaashi chose to not address the compliment, most likely out of discomfort, since Bokuto knew Akaashi to be uncomfortable accepting compliments. Akaashi turned and gestured for Bokuto to follow him. “Come on.”</p><p>Bokuto’s chest lit up with fireworks. “Nice to see you!” He waved at Akaashi’s parents and followed a step behind Akaashi. </p><p>They ended up in Akaashi’s room, Akaashi immediately unpacking the bag of clothes and shoes he had taken to practice earlier. Bokuto dropped his stuff on the floor and sat back on the perfectly made bed. </p><p>Akaashi’s room was neat and organized, like the rest of the house, but it still had character to it. It wasn’t a perfect porcelain model – it was more like a real human room, not a dollhouse. The desk on the far side of the room was a bit cluttered and there were a few empty cups on the nightstand. Bokuto already knew he was much more comfortable in this room than the rest of the house, even though he hadn’t spent much time in it. </p><p>“So,” Akaashi began as he finished getting his stuff in order, “do you want to watch a movie? I can rent one.”</p><p>“Sure!” Bokuto agreed happily. He would be happy doing anything with Akaashi.</p><p>Akaashi picked up his laptop from his desk and sat down on his bed next to Bokuto. Bokuto’s heart almost stopped for a second. </p><p>“What do you want to watch?” Akaashi asked, loading up a video streaming cite. </p><p>“Whatever you want to watch,” Bokuto replied easily. </p><p>“That is not very helpful.”</p><p>“Hey! I’m just being a good guest,” Bokuto fake-pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. </p><p>“And I’m trying to be a good host. Pick something.” </p><p>They spent the next twenty minutes trying to find something. Eventually they settled on a comedy Bokuto liked and Akaashi had never seen. </p><p>Bokuto had a hard time focusing on the movie, even though it was one of his favorites. He felt a bit restless and wished he had some yarn; even if he didn’t have needles he could knit on his fingers. Although he enjoyed the movie and company and felt perfectly content, great, even, his mind itched to be doing something else. His eyes darted around the room, attempting to distract his brain with something he could see before his body would betray him and begin fidgeting aimlessly – not that Akaashi would mind since he did something similar, although Bokuto did not think it was the same.</p><p>Bokuto was not a fidgety person in the same way Akaashi was. Akaashi fidgeted with his hands on occasion without thinking, mostly a habit now that developed from the way he learned to stretch his fingers out of necessity when he first started setting for Bokuto for hours after practice. There was something calming about the way Akaashi toyed with his fingers. Maybe it was the way it relaxed his face entirely, free of the weight that constantly plagued his forehead, or maybe it was the softness that would take over his voice as he did so. </p><p>Unlike Bokuto, Akaashi had the uncanny ability to assuage others with his own ticks. Bokuto was fidgety without cause, and not in a cute way. He had a hard time sitting still for longer than a minute at a time and usually wouldn’t even notice if he started doing it. </p><p>This issue was why Bokuto’s mother had taught him how to knit all those years ago. Otherwise he was a restless mess whose brain couldn’t pause long enough for him to catch his breath. His thoughts felt too big as they spilled out his ears and the top of his skull. His head lifted as his thoughts escaped and he was further away from the ground like some shitty, patchwork hot air balloon. The steam coming from his ears could be stopped if he had anything to focus on that would halt the endless flow of background noises and thoughts he couldn’t filter, even for just a second.</p><p>It took every ounce of self-control to not pick up his phone and start scrolling through social media or some app right then. He held off because he had chosen the movie and it would be rude of him to be on his phone while Akaashi watched, even if he was floating further and further from where he wanted to be.</p><p>“Bokuto, could you please massage my hand?” Bokuto was yanked back by a rope tied to his ankle. A rope that had been attached many years ago by patient and calm hands. Hands Bokuto desperately wanted to touch.</p><p>Bokuto turned to Akaashi, eyes as wide as dinner plates, confused and convinced he had hallucinated the other’s words, only to find Akaashi already extending one of his hands for Bokuto to grab. </p><p>So it wasn’t an auditory hallucination. Or wishful thinking.</p><p>“It hurts from practice today and I can’t get some of the sore spots the way I want to,” Akaashi explained. </p><p>Bokuto was relieved hearing the explanation, but also felt a twinge of disappointment for a reason he couldn’t place. As if Akaashi would attempt to get Bokuto to hold his hand like that. As if Akaashi would want Bokuto to hold his hand at all. However (thankfully), this sadness was drowned out by excitement – both to help Akaashi in any way possible, and to touch Akaashi’s hands. </p><p>“Sure!” Bokuto happily reached for Akaashi’s hand, easily slipping it into his own as if he hadn’t thought about touching them hundreds of times over the past three years. </p><p>Akaashi’s hands were cold and bony and dry to the touch. Bokuto wouldn’t have expected or wanted anything else; his heart fluttered all the same.</p><p>Akaashi’s hands were slender with long setters fingers that Bokuto often found himself stealing glances at when they were together. His finger pads were calloused from handling the volleyball so much and so often that it had worn out the skin. Bokuto had spent enough time with Akaashi to know how he liked to poke and prod at his own hands. Bokuto tried his best to push on all the parts he had seen Akaashi give extra care to when he rubbed them, like the large muscle around the thumb and the particular way he bent his fingers. </p><p>At first, Bokuto was completely unable to focus on the movie playing. His head was fuzzy from just touching Akaashi’s hands like this. As he kept going, paying close attention to Akaashi’s reactions to make sure he was doing a good job, his attention started to shift back to the movie when he got the hang of things. Akaashi’s hands moved to the back of his mind as he continued, forgetting he was massaging them entirely. It was kind of like he was knitting. The soft skin and the taut muscles that laid underneath became his needles and yarn for these moments. </p><p>Akaashi had the peculiar ability to know just what Bokuto needed exactly when he needed it, even if he wasn’t doing it on purpose. If there was some kind of higher power, or someone just sitting at a computer controlling the simulation they lived in, they had been kind to Bokuto with the timing of Akaashi’s request. Maybe it was a bit too coincidental. Bokuto let that thought slide from one side of his brain to the other without pause.</p><p>When the movie ended, Bokuto concluded that it was his new favorite of all time while Akaashi concluded that “although a bit childish, it was pretty good”. Bokuto became determined to pick a movie Akaashi would like more, and that was where the night went. Long after Akaashi’s hands should have been fine without his touch Bokuto kept massaging them. When Akaashi would take them away to pause the movie or drink water from one of the cups on his side table he would bring them right back into Bokuto’s wordlessly. </p><p>The second movie was “completely unintelligible, but not entirely in a bad way” according to Akaashi. </p><p>“Gah!” Bokuto exclaimed. “I swear I’ll find one that you’ll like a lot!”</p><p>“I think we just have different taste in movies,” Akaashi stated, biting back a yawn and separating his hands from Bokuto's after hours of them touching. Bokuto felt colder without the touch.</p><p>“What time is it? I should probably go home.” Bokuto suddenly became very aware of his extended presence in Akaashi’s home. Akaashi had a long day – he was probably tired and would go to sleep soon. Bokuto’s throat tightened when he thought about leaving.</p><p>“Well, you could spend the night. If you want to.” </p><p>Before his brain could fully comprehend this thought Bokuto was agreeing with a wide grin on his face. “That’d be so fun! Of course I want to! Is it okay with your parents?”</p><p>“Yeah, they’re good. You should ask your parents.”</p><p>“They’ll be fine,” Bokuto said excitedly. “They knew I’d be gone until late. My mom told me last night I didn’t have to come home if I was having too much fun with my friends.”</p><p>Akaashi closed his laptop and got up to put it away on his desk. “Are you?” He asked, still turned with his back to Bokuto.</p><p>“Am I what?” </p><p>“Are you having fun?”</p><p>Bokuto chest exploded with an overwhelming sense of happiness just thinking about his day. “Of course I am! I’m hanging out with Akaashi and that could never be boring! We could do anything and I’d still have fun! Even if we were at a museum or something – one of the boring ones without exhibits I can play with.”</p><p>Akaashi turned to Bokuto with a soft expression, a smile forming at the corner of his lip and the skin around his eyes crinkling. Bokuto’s heart melted. </p><p>“Thank you, Bokuto. I feel the same.”</p><p>Too many feelings ripped through Bokuto’s head and heart for him to respond adequately, so his face just split into a wide grin instead. They sat there like that for a moment, smiling at one another, sharing the warmth of the room. Akaashi finally turned to his dresser and pulled some clothes out of it. </p><p>“I’m sorry, I don’t really have clothes that would fit you. These should be okay.” Akaashi extended the clothes in his hand to Bokuto before lightly tossing them for Bokuto to catch. </p><p>“These should be great! Thank you, Akaashi! You’re the best!” Bokuto exclaimed as he gazed at the sweatpants and t-shirt Akaashi had given him. </p><p>Akaashi had turned around already when Bokuto looked back up. Soon, he left to change in the bathroom and Bokuto changed in Akaashi’s room while he was gone. The shirt was a good fit and the sweatpants were a bit tight but manageable. They smelled like Akaashi – something like green tea and mint. It was a smell so distinct and calming Bokuto was sure he would remember it for the rest of his life, even if he never saw Akaashi again. Bokuto didn’t even care how dramatic and unrealistic that concept was.</p><p>When Akaashi came back, Bokuto’s brain faltered at the sight of the other boy wearing a large shirt and sweatpant-material shorts. He was struck with the knowledge he had never seen Akaashi dressed so casually. It felt out of place, like seeing a teacher outside of school. Akaashi looked so soft and comfortable and Bokuto wanted nothing more than to hug him so tight they could feel each other’s hearts beating. </p><p>Bokuto knew Akaashi was pretty – he had <em>eyes</em> – but right then Akaashi was nothing short of beautiful. </p><p>“Do you have an extra pillow and blanket?” Bokuto asked. </p><p>Akaashi made a face. “You’re not sleeping on the floor.”</p><p>“Me? You’re the one who’s not sleeping on the floor. It’s your bed!”</p><p>“You can’t mess up your back or shoulders, you have practice on Monday,” Akaashi argued. “My bed is big enough, it’ll be fine for both of us, I think.”</p><p>Bokuto decided Akaashi had to be a literal angel. </p><p>Akaashi turned the lights off and they settled into bed next to each other. Bokuto’s knees were so close to Akaashi’s tucked in feet that he could feel the heat coming from them. Bokuto was so warm and at peace, it felt like he was taken out of reality for just a moment. He and Akaashi were in a pocket dimension removed from time where they could lay forever and Bokuto could hear Akaashi’s slow breathing as he himself drifted off for all time. </p><p>“Goodnight, Akaashi,” Bokuto said quietly into this void they had created.</p><p>“Goodnight, Koutarou,” Akaashi said back. </p><p>Koutarou.</p><p>Bokuto fell asleep replaying the way Akaashi had said his given name over and over so much that the word became twisted into something much newer and much more kind than just his name had ever been.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>akaashi definitely noticed bokuto's behavior and offered his hands to help him, just so we are all on the same page</p><p>also i hope my explanations of bokuto's behavior and thoughts makes sense. im trying to explain my own experiences with ADD through him, so i hope its not too confusing! im finding that it's harder to explain than i thought.</p><p>i hope you guys are enjoying this! i will hopefully finish working with the next chapter soon. let me know what you think! i love reading comments</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>sorry this chapter is a month late! school and life got in the way. but i really want to actually finish this and i'm very close! hopefully this chapter was worth the wait</p><p>this chapter is a bit angsty. i wasn't planning on putting angst in this but it just seemed to be where the story was going so i rolled with it. it ends on a good note and this fic will, of course, have a happy ending!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Visiting home and seeing Akaashi had affected Bokuto more than he had anticipated it would. He thought he would have fun and come back feeling a little less homesick, completely recharged and ready for anything upon returning. </p><p>Not that he didn’t come back feeling that way. There was just something mixed in that he couldn’t quite place, something quiet but incessant nagging at the base of his skull and in the tug of his gut if he thought about it too much. He realized what that feeling was after his first video call with Akaashi the week after he got back. </p><p>Bokuto had just finished telling Akaashi a story about practice that could have (and probably should have) taken two minutes instead of ten, ending with “I should come back soon so we can practice together. Oikawa’s sets are good but they’re not yours!” Bokuto had laughed, almost dropping the knitting project that was waiting patiently in his lap for him to finish talking so he would pick it back up. </p><p>Except he didn’t pick the needles back up because the words Akaashi had spoken shocked his veins like static. </p><p>“I miss you too, Koutarou.”</p><p>It wasn’t as if Bokuto didn’t know he missed Akaashi, and it wasn’t as if he didn’t think Akaashi missed him as well. Although generally unspoken, Bokuto felt confident that Akaashi enjoyed his presence and would occasionally miss him when he was gone. But that was usually what it was for Akaashi: unspoken. </p><p>Bokuto frantically tried to remember if he had even said directly that he missed Akaashi, somewhere deep inside the lengthy monologue he had just given – searching for a white gold needle amongst a pile of silver ones. Unless his memory really was as bad as everyone told him, he hadn’t said he missed Akaashi, even if it was implied. </p><p>Bokuto watched on his screen as Akaashi continued revising his notes, seemingly unaware of the effect his words had on Bokuto. </p><p>Maybe if this had happened a year or two earlier, Bokuto would have reacted to these feelings and gotten excited, saying things like <em>“of course you do! It’s me!”</em> or <em>“you gettin’ soft on me, Akaashi?”</em>. He’s not sure when he became so hyper aware of his reactions to Akaashi, but somewhere along the line it happened. At some point along this same line his little crush was less of a small constant that made him feel warm and it had turned into a not-so-little constant that made him a bit worried at times. </p><p>Bokuto had never thought about acting on his crush. The idea of confessing had never really crossed his mind, if he was being honest. He just liked being around Akaashi and that was that. Maybe it had something to do with moving away, but Bokuto found that it was harder to leave his feelings alone lately. He might actually have to consider his next step – a thought which made him anxious. Confess or leave alone? </p><p>Bokuto was not sure what he wanted, all he knew was that he didn’t want to lose Akaashi and he didn’t want to stop feeling the way he felt about Akaashi. He wasn’t sure if those two realities could coexist or not. </p><p>“Are you okay?”</p><p>Bokuto blinked and picked up his needles finally. “Never been better.” He flashed a smile at Akaashi, who stared back wordlessly for a second. </p><p>Akaashi’s expression was the same as always upon first glance: his eyes flat, his mouth relaxed into a taut line, his forehead creased in slight stress. But Bokuto could almost always read his face if he stopped long enough to think about it. If he took his time, he could see an extra line on Akaashi’s forehead, a glimmer in his eye, a slight curve of his lip, an arch in his eyebrow, or just a feeling in his gut that told him somehow what Akaashi was feeling. </p><p>Upon this second glance, there was still nothing different. Akaashi’s face was as flat as always. But as Bokuto had learned, miraculously and inexplicably, the feeling in his gut never lied. </p><p>Akaashi was sad, not concerned like he had thought. Bokuto sensed something unreadable and strangely tragic that threw him for a loop. </p><p>“Are you okay?” Bokuto asked back. </p><p>Akaashi picked up his pen and continued working, looking down at his notes instead of at the camera. “Never been better,” he said simply. </p><p>Bokuto wasn’t sure what to say. Maybe on another hypothetical day in a different year he would have attempted to cheer Akaashi up clumsily with a baseless confidence that his attempts would work. But it wasn’t that simple anymore. Doubt and confusion jammed his decision-making process. Why was Akaashi lying to him? Did Bokuto do something wrong? Should he make a joke about school? Tell Akaashi a story and try to cheer him up? Would it be crossing a line to push Akaashi a little more until he told Bokuto what was bothering him? </p><p>Overthinking was unfamiliar territory for Bokuto. As a person who relied almost entirely on impulses, he had a hard time thinking ahead. </p><p>He should say something. But when he considered what to say he faltered. The possibility of hurting Akaashi had his brain running in circles. The shitty hot air balloon of his thoughts was running on overdrive and now the balloon was on fire – or at least that’s what it felt like. He could almost feel the steam coming from his ears.</p><p>For once in his life, Bokuto stopped himself from saying something. They sat together on the phone quietly for another twenty minutes before Bokuto said he had to get to bed early for practice the next day. He was lying; he didn’t have practice in the morning, and Akaashi probably knew that too. </p><p>For a while after that Bokuto sat, for the first time in many years, in complete silence. He traded the project he was working on during the call for another one he kept by his bed, just barely out of view when they video chatted. He knit on this second project until the pads of his fingers lost feeling and his fingers ached. He finished the ball of yarn he was using a tied on another identical one.</p><p>He was making a blanket; one that he was planning on giving Akaashi when he finished. It would probably take a few months since Bokuto was busy a lot and he had decided to make this blanket with thin yarn and small needles. By the time he finished it would be getting cold out. Maybe too cold for such a thin blanket, in retrospect.</p><p>Bokuto understood that he cared more for Akaashi than he had ever anticipated. Love was too strong a word, but Bokuto knew his feelings towards Akaashi couldn’t be left alone anymore. Since he had come back from his visit home, he knew something had felt off. Maybe not love, but something akin to it. </p><p>Whatever it was, Bokuto felt it like he did most things: with his entire being. </p><p>+</p><p>Bokuto never learned why Akaashi was sad, or why Akaashi lied to him. Bokuto never asked, either. They texted like normal over the next few days, and Bokuto found himself getting back into his old routine after a day or so. Things were the same as always. Akaashi was clearly fine, Bokuto had read too far into things because his feelings got in the way, and everything was okay. The indescribable relief Bokuto felt when he realized this verged on euphoric. </p><p>Unfortunately, the people in Bokuto’s everyday life were far more observant than he gave them credit for. Kuroo noticed some kind of change in Bokuto because they lived together, and Oikawa also basically lived with them at this point, so he noticed pretty quickly as well. They probably also talked to each other about it when Bokuto wasn’t around.</p><p>At first they just asked him if he was doing alright. Bokuto wasn’t sure where that came from because he felt fine and acted normally. Everything was the same as it had always been. They didn’t seem convinced, but they left it alone. </p><p>The second time they brought it up was after practice one night. </p><p>They were walking together to Bokuto and Kuroo’s apartment after practice to quickly change before picking up dinner and coming back. It had been about a week since Bokuto and Akaashi’s video call, and almost two weeks since he had returned from his visit home. </p><p>Kuroo had recently visited home as well and was telling them about his mom’s obsession with him getting a girlfriend. </p><p>“It’s not even like she’s homophobic or anything, like she would be fine if I had a boyfriend! And it’s not as if I wouldn’t date a girl, she just wants a girl to talk to about me because my sister has a boyfriend already.”</p><p>“As if you could even get a girlfriend, much less a boyfriend,” Oikawa scoffed.</p><p>Kuroo’s face twisted. “And what’s your record, Mr. I-Can’t-Keep-A-Relationship-To-Save-My-Life?”</p><p>Bokuto laughed loudly and Oikawa stuck his nose in the air. </p><p>“I’ll have you know that I finally convinced Iwa to go on a date with me and it went very well! So shut the fuck up.” </p><p>“Did he know it was a date?” Bokuto joked. </p><p>Oikawa pushed Bokuto enough for him to stumble as he continued laughing at Oikawa. “You all are so mean to me,” Oikawa pouted, folding his arms across his chest. </p><p>Kuroo reached over to Bokuto and offered his hand palm up. Bokuto slapped it for a very loud high-five that left Bokuto’s hand stinging. </p><p>“But, really, how did it go?” Kuroo asked.</p><p>Oikawa smiled devilishly, with a slight curl of the corner of his mouth. “I told you guys he wouldn’t be able to resist me for long.”</p><p>Kuroo feigned throwing up and Bokuto laughed at his roommate’s dramatics. </p><p>“Did you even <em>go</em> on a date?” Bokuto asked over the sounds of Kuroo’s alarmingly hyper-realistic fake throwing up. </p><p>“I resent the implication,” Oikawa ran a hand through his hair with a flourish, no hint of resentment in his tone. “But yes, we did. We went to dinner. He paid.”</p><p>Kuroo whistled. “How’d you manage to finally snag him? You’ve been pining – loudly, I might add – for weeks.”</p><p>Oikawa rolled his eyes and the three of them finally began ascending the steps to the apartment. “I have not been <em>pining</em> over Iwaizumi. Just appreciating from afar.”</p><p>“But didn’t you try to ask him out a few times?” Bokuto asked. They reached the apartment and Kuroo unlocked the door, the three of them stepping inside and immediately taking off their shoes and putting their stuff from practice down by the door as if they were hundred-pound weights.</p><p>“That is besides the point. We all saw how he would look at me when we played with him,” Oikawa defended, bending backwards over the arm of the couch in the living room until he was laying on his back on the cushions with his legs bent over the arm rest.</p><p>Kuroo turned the corner with Bokuto to the small hallway which housed both of their bedrooms. Bokuto entered his room and stripped off his shirt and shorts with the door slightly ajar. He and Kuroo didn’t have much shame with each other, especially since they showered and changed next to each other often for volleyball. He tossed the dirty clothes on the ground, picked up another set of clothes – also from the ground – and smelled them before putting them on. He had to do laundry soon. Maybe he should also clean up his room a bit while he was at it. </p><p>From across the hall, Kuroo did the same, his door also slightly open. An annoyed groan came from Kuroo’s room. </p><p>“Don’t remind me, Oikawa. When you said a hot sports med student asked if he could play with us for a bit, I wasn’t expecting you and the guy to be undressing each other with your eyes the entire time. I had to bleach my eyeballs!” Kuroo yelled desperately from his room. “And then it became a regular thing! And sure, I like the guy, but I wish you guys had dealt with that sooner.”</p><p>“It was gross,” Bokuto added. As funny as it was watching Iwaizumi make fun of Oikawa, and as much as he liked playing with another powerful left hitter like Iwaizumi, Bokuto also remembered the sheer amount of sexual tension between him and Oikawa. Their bedroom eyes and aggressive flirting had made Bokuto want to gag. Not that he was a prude or anything, because he wasn’t. It just made him feel like he had to ask if they remembered he was there or if he should leave and come back later.</p><p>“You and me both, Kuroo,” Oikawa sighed loudly from the living room. “I tried, though! I really did,” Oikawa continued complaining as Bokuto came out of his room and leaned against the kitchen counter that overlooked the living room. “He insisted that I’m just annoying and vain, which is bold coming from a stranger, first of all. He acted like he couldn’t feel the tension. But he had to cave eventually so I just kept pushing.”</p><p>Kuroo came out of his room finally wearing clean clothes and Oikawa got up. The three of them left the apartment again to pick up food from a tempura vendor from a small market a few streets down that they liked. Bokuto and Oikawa stood on the stairs and waited for Kuroo to lock the door behind them. Soon, they were walking down the street as the sun was starting to set. </p><p>“Well, I’m glad your date apparently went ‘very well’. I hope I never have to hear about your relationship ever again,” Kuroo replied. “Is it even a relationship?”</p><p>Oikawa shrugged and bounced on his feet as he walked. “Who cares? He likes me more than he’s willing to admit, so there’s a challenge in it for me. He’s a gentleman, so there’s a second bonus for me. And he’s gotta be some kind of <em>god</em> at giving hea–“</p><p>Kuroo prevented the finishing of that sentence by waving his hands aggressively. “–Love that for you, really do, but please don’t tell me about it.”</p><p>Oikawa smirked and shrugged. “Whatever you say. All I’m saying is that the tension you and Bo were complaining about was well worth the wait.”</p><p>Bokuto and Kuroo both pretended to gag. </p><p>“What! I’m right! You two just need to get laid or something and stop complaining about my sex life.” Oikawa stuck his nose in the air and they continued walking, Kuroo bursting into laughter and Bokuto chuckling alongside him. </p><p>“I’m perfectly content right now, thank you very much,” Kuroo replied.</p><p>“Yeah, okay,” Oikawa rolled his eyes. “Bo over here has been awfully quiet this whole time, I’d like to point out.”</p><p>Bokuto laughed and narrowly avoided tripping over a crack in the sidewalk. “I have not!”</p><p>“You have, bro,” Kuroo added. “You always have something to say. I’m surprised you haven’t started talking about Iwaizumi’s spikes yet or something.”</p><p>Oikawa nodded. “You’ve been quieter recently when we talk about stuff like this.”</p><p>“Stuff like what?” Bokuto asked, eyebrows furrowing as the gears tried to turn in his head.</p><p>“Relationships, sex, etcetera.”</p><p>“I just don’t want anything like that right now. I don’t have much to add,” Bokuto responded easily. </p><p>It was true – he didn’t. Not that he didn’t want to have sex or anything, because of course he did, but he just didn’t want what Oikawa was insinuating. One-time deals or friends-with-benefits or any of the no-strings-attached stuff was not exactly at the top of Bokuto’s to-do list. Bokuto didn’t want to just get laid – he just wanted to kiss Akaashi sometimes. His current worry was less about having sex and more about whether he should confess or not. </p><p>“I knew it!” Oikawa exclaimed, clapping his hands once in front of him. His smile beamed through his somehow still-perfect hair. </p><p>Bokuto’s face contorted in confusion. “Okay I know I don’t pay attention to things well but did I actually miss something here? Did I zone out for a second and miss something important?”</p><p>Oikawa smiled widely and reached his arm out to rest his hand on Bokuto’s shoulder with a firm grip. </p><p>Bokuto looked over at Kuroo, who was looking between Bokuto and Oikawa with an impish grin. A shit-eating grin that Bokuto usually loved to see on Kuroo’s face, except in this context it just made him more lost and confused than before.</p><p>“Kuroo and I have been worried about you for the past couple weeks because you’ve been acting a little weird,” Oikawa started to say. </p><p>“I have not,” Bokuto defended. He wasn’t sure where Oikawa was going with this.</p><p>Kuroo turned and patted Bokuto on the shoulder sympathetically. “You have, bro, but it’s okay.”</p><p>Oikawa cleared his throat. “Anyway, we were trying to figure it out and we realized it started after you came back from your visit home.”</p><p>Bokuto’s heart sped up at the implication he knew Oikawa was about to make. </p><p>“Because you’ve been getting weird about relationship stuff, I think it’s because you and Akaashi finally hooked up or something,” Oikawa finished, jostling Bokuto slightly with the hand still clamped onto his shoulder. </p><p>It was so wrong that it was actually kind of funny. Laughter rose through Bokuto’s throat until he was doubled over laughing, clutching his stomach. There was something incredibly relieving about Oikawa being wrong, especially <em>this</em> wrong. </p><p>Through his fit of laughter Bokuto could hear Kuroo mocking Oikawa. </p><p>“Do you really think Bokuto would just <em>hook up</em> with somebody? Look at Bokuto – even he’s laughing!”</p><p>Bokuto wiped tears from his eyes and patted his cheeks, which hurt from the wide grin he held while doubled over in laughter. In front of him, Oikawa’s face had twisted into the closest thing resembling embarrassment that Bokuto had ever seen on his features. </p><p>“It just makes sense!” Oikawa defended, shifting his weight onto one leg and allowing the other to kick at the ground. “Even you said it had something to do with Akaashi! It just has to be about him, there’s no other explanation. And I, for one, think they are just inches away from dating already, so it would make sense that maybe during his visit someone confessed or some glances lingered a bit too long and the no-makeout dam finally broke.”</p><p>“I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” Bokuto replied. What was Oikawa even saying? Bokuto didn’t care if they knew about his crush, – it wasn’t like he tried very hard to hide it – he was more confused about the part where Oikawa implied those feelings might be reciprocated. </p><p>Oikawa’s mouth dropped open and even Kuroo’s eyes widened in shock. </p><p>“Okay, I know you’re a bit dense, but this is crazy,” Kuroo stated. Bokuto deflated at the insult. He just wanted to know what Oikawa meant.</p><p>Oikawa noticed Bokuto’s deflation and immediately backtracked. “Bo, you do know that you and Akaashi have been dancing around the whole dating-thing for like two years now, right?”</p><p>Bokuto’s head hurt. “I don’t know what the fuck you guys are talking about and I really wish one of you would just tell me what you mean by me <em>and</em> Akaashi.”</p><p>Kuroo rubbed his forehead. “Okay, let’s start at square one. Do you like Akaashi?”</p><p>Bokuto didn’t hesitate. “Yes.” There was no point in lying, not that he wanted to anyway. </p><p>“Alright, so you know how you and Akaashi have been, like, on the verge of dating?”</p><p>“No. That’s where you guys are losing me I literally have no idea what that means.” Bokuto wasn’t sure if he was the stupid one here or if Kuroo and Oikawa were. From where Bokuto was standing, they appeared to be talking out of their asses. </p><p>“Tetsu, I think he’s being serious,” Oikawa said to Kuroo out of the side of his mouth. </p><p>Bokuto’s face heated up. “I can hear that!”</p><p>“Bro,” Kuroo made direct eye contact with Bokuto and grabbed him by both shoulders. “Are you telling us that you genuinely don’t think you and Akaashi are one accidental glance away from both confessing to each other?”</p><p>“Yes that’s exactly what I’m telling you,” Bokuto replied, not breaking eye contact with Kuroo. </p><p>At this point Oikawa and Kuroo were making Bokuto mad. At the very least he was annoyed. There was nothing between him and Akaashi to talk about, unless they wanted to tell him to get a grip and either confess or let it go. </p><p>Bokuto shrugged Kuroo’s hands off his shoulders and Oikawa sighed. “What exactly do you think your friendship with Akaashi is? I’ve never even met the guy but from what Kuroo has told me and the way you talk about him tells me there’s a deep canyon of emotional buildup between you two and you both are walking on one thin fucking tightrope from one side to the other trying desperately not to fall off.”</p><p>Bokuto’s annoyance rose to his chest. He threw his hands out to the side in frustration and groaned. “I’ve always liked him I think. I mean, I don’t know. But it’s been fine because we’re friends and I love being his friend and I like that he makes me happy and I just don’t want to have to <em>do</em> anything about it! I just want everything to stay the same because I don’t want to make things weird by telling him and even if he does like me too things might not work out but I also don’t want to not like him, you know?” </p><p>Kuroo and Oikawa stared for a second and Bokuto ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “This is so stupid.”</p><p>“I’m going to say this in the nicest way possible,” Kuroo finally spoke. “Your fears of both commitment and rejection are completely blinding you from the fact that Akaashi absolutely likes you too.”</p><p>“I’m not afraid of commitment or rejection!” </p><p>“Okay, you’re afraid of change, then. Whatever you want to call it, it’s preventing you from seeing the obvious.”</p><p>Bokuto rubbed his head with his hands. Why couldn’t they just understand? Why didn’t they get it?</p><p>“I’m not afraid of anything! I’m Bokuto Koutarou and I’m not supposed to doubt things or not know what to do! I’m supposed to be aloof and dumb and make mistakes and not really care a lot about them. I’m not supposed to overthink or be afraid of consequences. This is so stupid!” Bokuto gestured wildly as he spoke. The conflicting emotions building up in Bokuto had reached a breaking point and they had finally come out. He was unable to verbalize or even comprehend his feelings until this point, when they suddenly burst from him like air from a balloon that had been stabbed with a pen.</p><p>Bokuto crouched on the sidewalk and rubbed at his eyes with his hands. His head hurt, his body was sore, and his heart ached. He wished Akaashi was there. Oh, God, did he wish Akaashi was there to reel him back. The hot air balloon was even patchier and even shittier than before but, impossibly, it was floating farther and farther away. </p><p>Bokuto was an adult – he could deal with his own problems better now than in high school. Although he didn’t often need Akaashi’s help with his mood swings anymore, he desperately needed it at this very moment. He just wanted a hand on his back, some blunt words about being too worked up or some genuine encouragement that he was going to be okay. A smile, maybe. </p><p>“Bo, what happened when you went home?” Oikawa asked. </p><p>Bokuto squeezed his face between his hands like he was trying to pop a grape. “I don’t know. All I know is that I came back all confused. Well, like, I came back fine mostly but something was different, you know? And I didn’t really get it until last week because I thought I made Akaashi sad or something over video chat but he lied to me and then we hung up. It’s been fine since then though so he’s fine and I probably made it all up but it made me realize that I’m completely fucked.”</p><p>Kuroo and Oikawa both crouched down on the sidewalk in front of Bokuto. </p><p>Kuroo smiled at him. Not the shit-eating grin from earlier, but a kind smile that softened his eyes. “Dude, you’re going to be completely fine. You just have to confess to him.”</p><p>“Easy for you to say. You don’t know him, how could you know he’d like me back?” Bokuto spoke through his squished cheeks.</p><p>“You’re right: I don’t know for certain what he would say. I barely know the guy. I know what you tell me about him and I remember a bit about him from high school when we would play practice games against each other. But from what I do know about Akaashi, the last thing he wants to do is hurt you. Even if he doesn’t like you back the same way, it’ll be okay. You just have to make peace with that. And if he does like you back things will change, sure, but I’m absolutely positive it’d be a good change.”</p><p>Bokuto’s eyes shifted over to Oikawa. </p><p>Oikawa held his hands up. “I couldn’t have said it better myself. I think you should confess.”</p><p>Bokuto sighed. The three of them stayed crouched on the sidewalk in comfortable silence for a minute. The occasional person or couple that walked by would send them confused looks, unsure as to why these three college boys were blocking the walkway for anybody else that might want to use it.</p><p>Bokuto dropped his arms and let them dangle at his sides. “I don’t even know if he’s gay.”</p><p>There was another moment of pause before Oikawa and Kuroo burst into laughter. There was no real cause that Bokuto could understand for their reaction - he was being serious. But eventually their laughter infected his emotional mood and bubbled in his lungs. </p><p>Soon, Bokuto was laughing alongside them until he couldn’t breathe, still unsure why they were laughing in the first place. </p><p>Soon, his chest began to ache for a different reason than before (as it turned out, it would, in fact, hurt if Kuroo punched him in the sternum, even if he knew the punch was coming).</p><p>Soon, Bokuto had the best tempura he had ever purchased.</p>
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